Together we're better
by Angus of Sherlock's
Summary: Sherlock's life changed when he met Joan Watson. Joan's life changed when she met Sherlock Holmes. Together they're better. Series of one-shots. Will contain both friendship and romance. No mature content.
1. Chapter 1

**Together we're better**

 **PART ONE**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or Joan.**

* * *

Sherlock let out a load moan as he sunk down on the sofa. The case was closed, he caught the murderer, but somehow he didn't feel the usual happiness and pride. he couldn't focus on anything, except his aching body. Yes, he had pulled another all-nighter for this case and hadn't slept for God knows how long. He was tired, absolutely drained. Slouching over files did nothing for his back. All his muscles hurt and he had a massive headache.

"How are you doing?" Joan asked entering the room holding a cup of tea. He took it, trying not to move too much. If he were feeling better he would smile - his Watson always knew how to help him.

"Coping." he groaned. Turning to sarcasm, he squinted his eyes and tilted his head as if listening to something "Would you mind anwsering the door?" he asked and she turned her head, confused "Ah, sorry it's just the knocking in my head" he said and Joan rolled her eyes. The joke was lame, but she knew he would be okay if he was telling one. She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with some pills.

"Here, it's ibuprofen" she said and handed them to Sherlock.

"Painkillers, really?" he made a face and she glared at him as he grabbed the pills and popped them into his mouth, washinh them down with tea.

"They will help with your head. You need anything else?" she asked quite sincerely. She knew there was no way she could persuade Sherlock to go sleep during important cases, but as a friend she get the best she could do was help him when the tiredness caught up with him. God knows he would do the same if he was in her situation.

"Not unless you have..." his voice trailed off and she knew that he had an idea. Sherlock with an idea was a dangerous thing. For a second or so he was lost in thought before he whirled around to face her with pleading eyes. She looked at him warily.

"What is it you want?"

"How good are you at massages?" he asked bluntly as she stared.

"I'm not going to give you a massage!" she exclaimed without much thought.

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Look Watson," he interrupted "I understand I'm proposing an activity that would probably be socially unacceptable because of our employer/employee relationship and the fact that you were my sober companion. However I'm asking as a friend, not an employer or client or ex drug addict. I'm asking you if you could do this for me. If you aren't comfortable with it, then I won't pressure you. If you want, we can make a deal - next time you feel a bit down I will give you a massage. I would be extremely grateful if I could recieve one myself. I do believe I am dying" he ended dramatically.

"Well..."

"Come on, please? I do great massages you know. " seeing she was close to agreeing, but still thinkig about it, he decided to try a different tactic. He relaxed his face muscles and opened his eyes wider, trying to look absolutely miserable. She gave in.

"Fine. But it's just because you're dying and people might suspect I murdered you" he smiled at that.

"I knew I could count on you, Watson." And he did. He did count on her to be there for him, massage or not. And he would be there for her.

"Shut up and sit down here." she said gesturing at the floor. He got up slowly, trying to make his moves as unpainful as he could. Finally he managed to sit on the floorboards with his legs crossed. Joan perched behind him as he tugged his shirt over his head. Joan placed her hands on his back and gently started tracing his tatoos with her fingers. They were fascinating. They stood for different parts of his life, different eras and symbolised who he had been, who he was and who he wanted to be. They spoke multitudes, but many were unreadable and undeducible for her. Her hands stilled. Right, time for the massage.

Sherlock sighed as he felt her soft hands press on his bare shoulders once more. She shifted a bit to get comfortable and started moving her fingers, kneading the muscles. As she was working, trying to loosen up all the tight spots he closed his eyes and let his mid drift off. The world could have been ending and he wouldn't mind. He had suspected Joan would be good at massages - she used to be a surgeon and had delicate and precise hands. But oh, how she used them! He knew this would feel amazing but it exceeded all his expectations. It was divine.

He felt himself falling asleep and found that he didn't have the strength to try and stay awake, so he tried to memorised the feeling of her hands on him as he let his subconscious take over. This woman would be the end of him.

Joan had been aware he was dozing off, but when he slumped against her, she decided that it was enough for the night. She gently shook him awake and smiled slightly as he blinked at her, only partly awake.

"Sorry Sherlock, but I need you to help me get you to bed." She took his hands and helped him up. Almost instantly he started swaying and would have toppled to the ground if she had not been ready for it and instantly steadied him. She put her arm under his arms, not minding that he was bare-chested and helped him up the stairs and to his bedroom. When she finally managed to get him there, he immediately lay down sprawled on the bed.

"Oh no you don't!" she said and sat down next to him. "Sherlock" she said shaking him gently. He opened his eyes slightly. "Stay awake for a moment longer."

She opened his drawers and took out a pair of loose pants and a t-shirt. She turned around and found him asleep again.

"Hey." he muttered something and she smiled softly. He would deny ever being so vulnerable and cute. "Sherlock, please." he groaned and she handed him the clothes "Change into these and you can go to sleep."

He sloppily changed pants, but neglected the shirt. Joan rolled her eyes as she saw how he was hanging off the bed with one leg on the floor. She rolled him off the covers and tucked him in. He snuggled onto his side and she smiled. He was too cute.

"Goodnight Sherlock." she said quietly and walked way.

Joan turned the lights off, closed the door and exited his room, ready to go to sleep herself. She didn't see how the sleeping Sherlock slightly trailed his hand after her as she moved away from him.

* * *

 **This is going to be one-shot in two parts, maybe a series of one-shots. That depends on you. Please review, feedback is always extremely helpful. This is my first Sherlock fix so I'm kind of excited. I hope I** **managed to portray both Joan and Sherlock okay.**

 **This one-shot can be Joan/Sherlock friendship or romance. That depends on you own individual interpretation. Let me know what you think and if I should continue. See you!**

 **PS Would you like the second part a bit longer?**


	2. Chapter 2

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked as Joan walked in. He was sitting in an arm chair, staring at the wall.

"Nothing"

"Wrong. You are slouched, have droopy eyes and aren't checking the texts you received a couple minutes ago. You've put off coffee with one of your friends, a good friend, probably from high school. Michelle? It is obvious you have nothing better to do with your time, so something's wrong. Now talk."

Joan rolled her eyes, of course he knew.

"Just a-"

"Argument with your family, yes, I know." Sherlock interrupted "Began by your mother, but involving the rest of your family as well."

"If you knew, than why ask?" Joan asked irritably.

"It is a social custom. You are supposed to ask 'what's wrong' and 'are you okay?' when someone is in a bad mood. On that note, are you okay?" he got up abruptly and stood in front of her. He was invading her comfort zone, but she was used to that by now. 10 cm. from her face, he studied her features.

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm fine." she said, a bit of anger crawling into her voice. "I'm just extremely tired."

"Wrong again! Wait here!" he said and walked out of the room. Joan sighed, but waited. He came back, holding a tank-top in one hand and sport's-bra in the other. "Take one."

"Take one? Why?" she asked confused

"Isn't it obvious? I'm giving you a massage. Can't do that when you're in a sweater. Take one." Oh. So that's what this was about. She grabbed the sport's-bra. He turned around as she put in on. She shifted uncomfortably, not because of the skin she was showing - she was utterly comfortable with her body around him, besides, he'd seen more when she got shot, - but because a massage like this felt rather… intimate. When she gave him a massage, it was okay, cause he was really needing it and it was her giving it, not the other way around. Not his hands on her body. Did she want to do this?

"So, what now?" she asked, trying to sound casual. She remembered him saying he was brilliant at massages…

"Well, it would be ideal if you could lie down on a bed, but I'm assuming you won't feel comfortable with that. Which is of course ridiculous." she felt herself blush a bit and cursed her body.

"Yeah, let's not do that."

"So the sofa will have to do. Lay down on your stomach." he said, rolling up his sleeves. She did just that and closed her eyes.

Sherlock warmed his hands a bit and smiled. He knew he wasn't good at showing gratitude, and he hoped this would signal that he cared. She had helped him countless times, more then he'd ever be able to repay. The least he could do was make her comfortable after a hard day. So when he knelt on the ground next to her and put his hands on her back and instead of tensing up, she relaxed, he smiled slightly.

"You can fall asleep Watson. I apologise if it will be a bit rough in the beginning, but your muscles are extremely tight." he said as her started kneading the rigid spots.

"No problem" she mumbled, feeling bliss. He really was good at this.

"Want me to talk?" he asked and she gave him a thumbs up with her hand that was dangling from the sofa. He chuckled.

"When I was still in London I had this interesting case…" he started talking and as she lie there, she thought she was incredibly lucky to have Sherlock as a friend. She listened to him recounting the case with enthusiasm and smiled as he talked.

"It was the pizza-man! Of course no one believed me at first, they were all dim." he finished with triumph.

"Thank you, Sherlock." Joan said softly, stifling a yawn.

"What for, Watson?"

"For being here. I'm so lucky to have found you, you know."

"You would have been fine without me. You did much more for me then I for you and you know that."

"Hmm… I'm not sure about that." she said and yawned once more "Goodnight, Sherlock" she mumbled, not even realising that falling asleep here on the sofa meant he would probably carry her to bed.

"Nighty night, Watson."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite." she managed to say before letting sleep take her. Sherlock massaged her for a while longer, not sure if she was actually asleep or not yet.

"Oh, Watson. You changed me more than you know." suddenly his phone beeped. "Oh, look here! We have a new case, brilliant! You'll be ready tomorrow, won't you Watson? Sure you will, you always are. Always ready, always kind, always willing to find a mystery. Some might say were are adventurous. It's so much better when you have someone to solve cases with, you know?" he looked at her sleeping "It's a bit easier talking with you when you're asleep. Of course, if you were asleep during cases, then I wouldn't know you thoughts. That would be a shame, huh?" she didn't reply.

"Right, I guess it's time to get you to bed." he said getting up and rubbing his sore knees. He picked her up bridal style and carried to her bedroom with ease. She was quite light. As he lay her down in bed, he poked her in the stomach. "You should eat more, Watson. You have to have your full strengths on cases. I know you know that. I taught you that. That reminds me - I have an exercise for you tomorrow. We'll see how much you learned this month. Should be fun. Well, fun for me, probably a bit irritating for you." he sat down next to her and didn't speak for a minute.

"Right! Goodnight, Watson, see you tomorrow!" He said as he got up and walked towards the door. "Get some sleep, you'll need it!" he smiled as he looked back and closed the door.

When Joan woke up the next morning, she was greeted with the smell of scrambled eggs.

"Come on Watson, eat up and get ready. We have a case!" She smiled and stretched, yawning. That was a great night of sleep. She was ready for another day with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

 **So… that's that! Sorry it took a while to post this, but I was having a bit of a hard couple weeks. Plus, I wanted to write other fan fiction. I know I said this one might be longer but it just didn't work. Oh, I don't have a beta, so sorry for the mistakes.**

 **Which brings me to my question - would you want more chapters? More one-shots about their growing relationship (either friendship or more, that depends on what you want)? They could be longer then, and you could give me prompts. So… what do you think? Please let me know!**

 **Signing off,** ** _Angus of Sherlock's_**


	3. Pokémon Go edition

BAM! Something crashed into Sherlock and sent him sprawling onto the floor. He felt a figure fall onto his back, squashing him and he wheezed as all the air flew out of his lungs.

"Watson!" He yelled and she quickly scrambled off him.

"I'm so sorry!" She said and then glanced at the phone in her hand. "I caught him!" She said in disbelief and grinned widely. Sherlock rolled onto is back and glared at her.

"What are you doing? Have you suddenly gone mad?" She looked at him sheepishly.

"Sorry. I wasn't looking out and you're just too quite. You know Pokémon, right? Well, this let's you catch them in real life. Well, not real life. Basically you walk around and they come up on your phone."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you Watson, but I am not a Pokémon." He said sarcastically and got up. "Next time you attempt to murder me, find a better excuse." He started walking away and she grinned.

"It was a 142 CP Jigglypuff!" She yelled after him. He ignored her. "I'm calling it Sherlock." She said to herself.

"No you are not!" She heard him shout and smiled.

X(X()X)X

They were in the police car on their way to the precinct. It's not that it irritated him that Joan kept glancing at that damned phone with the damned game it's just that... Well okay. It irritated him.

"Could you please concentrate Watson? At least try to be professional." She frowned at him.

"Come on Sherlock. We're not doing anything. Besides, it's not that unprofessional. Everyone is playing it now." He used his best glare and finally she succumbed and put her phone down. "Fine." They rode in silence and then Sherlock noticed the detective looking at his phone with a thoughtful look. Thinking it was news from Captain Gregson, he leaned in and-

"Not you too." He said with his voice raised, nearly shouting. Detective Bell smirked.

"Hey Joan. You know that Squirtle you really want? Well guess what I see just out the window?"

"What?!" Joan lunged for her phone.

"Too late! Caught it!"

Sherlock shook his head at them. He really didn't understand the fun in searching for fictional creatures that didn't do anything, but he let them argue over how Marcus stole Joan's monster. Actually, this was turning out to be quite amusing.

X(X()X)X

It was the third hour of going over evidence and Sherlock was getting tired. The case seemed straight forward enough, but they just couldn't seem to be able to find the body or the stolen money. They caught the murderer who confessed to everything, but he was giving them a hard time. It was pretty standard behaviour, the man was going to prison either way.

"Break time." Watson declared and got up. "Want some coffee?" He tilted back on his chair and nodded. Soon she was back with two cups and they sat together in a comfortable silence. She took out her phone. After a few minutes she looked up at him. "Hey Sherlock, come see this." He walked over and rolled his eyes when he recognised PokémonGO. "No but look." He looked closer, actually paying attention to what was on the screen this time and he saw a bird like creature on the table, standing next to the coffee. He looked at back at Joan and smiled at her excitement.

"I assume it's not a common one?"

"It's a Starly. Look how cute this guy is!" She said and he tried not to laugh.

"I admit, it has a certain appeal."

"I know you think it's cute."

"Go on, catch it." She flicked her finger across the screen and a pokéball flew at the Starly. "You missed." She rolled her eyes and tried again. This time she captured him inside the ball. It rolled once. Twice. Third time and... Caught!

"Yeah! Okay. This one reminds me a bit of you, it's definitely gonna be named Sherlock. There's no way to argue your way out of this one." He didn't say anything, trying not to think of the fact that she was basically calling him cute. She quickly changed the nickname and grinned. "Okay, I think the break is over. You ready to get back to work?" Sherlock sat back down at his seat.

"We got a lot of work ahead of us, Watson."

He pushed PokémonGO and the Starly out of his mind. Time to solve the case.


End file.
